It was easy enough to keep his little habit from the other scientists. He knew he should fear Dr. Williams and his bloody, flesh dripping face, but he didn’t. He was more fascinated. He wished desperately to know the doctor’s secret. How could he possibly live so torn up and not have died of exposure to infection? Bjorn had studied Williams’ face with a medical eye and watched in awe at each new fissure as it ripped open through movement yet he never seemed ill. His teeth had fallen out and blood still pooled in the empty sockets. Bjorn had studied him carefully as he opened his mouth to sip his Earl Gray tea. He was in awe of his superior, though he had no idea how he survived.
Senator Arkdone was a completely different beast. He was, by all standards, a very attractive man. His facial features were aristocratic, chiseled and majestic. His demeanor exuded command of all those in his presence. Like Dr. Williams, the Senator had a certain quality Bjorn admired greatly. He couldn’t quite put his finger on Arkdone’s draw, but both men had an elusive quality that made Bjorn’s skin prickle with vicious excitement…as if he were amongst death and destruction. Bjorn loved every minute of it.
They had flown all night. His job was to keep the metas subdued for the flight. Upon arrival, four of the children were drooling on themselves and the remaining seven were dazed and unresponsive. Bjorn had enjoyed his job too much.
They were wheeled one-by-one down the corridor by handlers. Each would be placed in their cell where their training would begin right away. They were given no food or water and would remain locked away in their empty rooms for seventy-two hours.
“The twelfth meta wasn’t going to survive the flight let alone the first few days under…your handlers’ supervision,” Bjorn’s voice quivered.
The Senator stared, unblinking, at the interesting doctor Williams sent with his newest candidates. He could smell the evil oozing from Bjorn’s pores. It was a delicious scent, and he found himself inhaling deeply to fill his lungs with it.
Arkdone offered one simple nod of acceptance.
“You have never been to my hospital, have you?”
“No sir,” Bjorn’s bright black eyes sparkled behind his thick spectacles.
Arkdone smiled widely and waved his arms aloft with a flourish. “I would very much like to show you around.”
“I’m not sure I have enough time before the private jet is scheduled to leave.”
“Oh, let it leave. You have all the time in the world.” The Senator’s statement was dripping with far more than hospitality.
“Dr. Williams—”
“Dr. Williams doesn’t hold any rank over me. On the contrary, he is working for me now.” Arkdone smiled handsomely.
Bjorn stared at the man before him with an even deeper respect. “Lead the way, Senator,” he answered with a brow raised and a smile curling his thin lips.
“That’s a good man.” Arkdone patted the boney doctor firmly on the back, causing Bjorn to stumble just a bit from the force. He walked with a limp anyway thanks to the clubfoot he was born with and was never given the proper care to correct his gait.
The Senator pretended not to notice his limp as he began his tour. “I purchased the entire six-hundred bed former asylum for the ten-dollar cost of filing the proper paperwork with the state.”
“Built in 1878, it was created with great architectural care and the state spared no expense in the building of the sprawling compound making it look more like a college campus than any previously known hospital for the mentally ill. The idea was to treat patients with morality and care in the hopes of rehabilitation rather than straps and chains to control them. The natural beauty of the peaceful lands around the hospital was thought to help quiet the sick minds.”
Arkdone looked over at Bjorn with a wide, ironic smile before adding, “That was then. Now I use the desolate and decomposing buildings as my Monarch Programmer’s training facility.” He led the doctor down one of the brick-lined hallways, slowing his gait so the hobbling Bjorn could keep up.
“It is really quite a brilliant system,” he continued. “With hundreds of candidates at different stages of training, those more advanced are responsible for the upkeep of the hospital’s crops on the east wing of the compound and the small farm on the west side.” He glanced at the beady-eyed doctor looking out one of the tall, windows. “It helps offset the cost of keeping everyone fed,” he laughed, “That is, when they are allowed to eat.”
“The fresh candidates are really too busy with their initiation to be of any help around the compound until the end of their first year, depending on how malleable their minds are.”
Senator Arkdone patted the doctor on the back again, although this time, Dr. Bjorn was sure he felt the points of clawed fingernails dig into his skin. He cringed and moved the way he was prodded without a word, sure he must have been mistaken.
“I visit the trainers once a week to hear the reports on the candidates’ progress. The techniques used are quite extreme, Dr. Bjorn,” Arkdone said with a glint in his eye. “Some would say vile and sadistic.”